We Are Cigarettes and Gasoline
by SereneCalamity
Summary: There was usually friction between Bellamy and Murphy. Murphamy. Oneshot.


**I love these two together. They're just...I don't know, I love them.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the title, which is from _Save Me_ by Ron Pope. **

"I swear to _fucking god_ , Bellamy, I'm going to punch you in the _fucking mouth_ ," John Murphy swore as his head snapped to the side to where Bellamy Blake was rapping his fingers impatiently against the side of the car. Bellamy just smirked and continued to drum his fingers, a little bit harder, just to piss off his co-worker even more. John narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth together, knowing that Bellamy was just doing it to get under his skin.

About a whole minute passed before John, or 'Murphy' as he was better known, threw down the wrench he was using so that it clattered on the concrete and glared across at Bellamy.

"Everything okay?" Bellamy asked with a smirk, tilting his head to the side. It was nearly eight o'clock, and both of them definitely had things that they would rather be doing on a Friday night. But they had both stupidly offered to do overtime at the workshop where they were employed. Murphy was always in need of extra cash, and Bellamy had done it out of the goodness of his heart, since their boss was Lincoln Trikru was also his sisters boyfriend, and Octavia Blake had been complaining that she hadn't been able to spend as much time with him lately.

Bellamy had finished up on the Porsche that had to be done by tomorrow, and so now he was just waiting around for Murphy to finish. Despite the fact the two of them bickered on a daily basis and their arguments had even gotten to the point of throwing punches at one point, although admittedly that was during the first week that they had met, they lived within a block of each other, and so they drove in to work together. It saved on gas, and Murphy got road rage in the rush hour Los Angeles traffic, so it was better that he wasn't behind the wheel.

Which was why Bellamy really had nothing more to do than annoy Murphy to the point that he was throwing things around and huffing angrily, and in all honesty, looking kind of adorable with a scrunched up nose and his eyes narrowed.

"I swear to god, I'll..." Murphy clenched his hands into fists while Bellamy just tilted his head to the side, his curls falling over his forehead.

"You'll what?" Bellamy asked, obviously hoping to provoke something from Murphy. Murphy just let out a huff and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands on before leaning back over the open hood. Bellamy grinned as he pulled out a pack of his cigarettes from back pocket. It was a nasty habit, one that Clarke Griffin—his best friend and roommate—was trying to break him out of, but so far, he was still smoking six or seven a day. "I'm heading outside, give me a shout when you're done." Murphy just continued to glare at him as though it was all _Bellamy's_ fault that they were stuck there until late Friday night. Bellamy just gave him a little, _patronizing_ wave of his fingers, before opening up the side door that lead out to the driveway. There was light coming from one of the high, murky windows of the workshop and then also from the street light down the end of the drive way, but other than that, it was all darkness and shadows.

They worked in one of the suburbs, so they weren't in the middle of the city and there wasn't that much traffic or noise, especially at this time of night, and Bellamy liked it like that. He leaned against the wall of the building and bent one leg at the knee, propping it up against the wall behind him as he put a cigarette in his mouth and then lit up the end with a novelty lighter that Octavia had brought him for Christmas last year.

He was puffing his way through his second cigarette when the light from the window above his head turned off and he heard Murphy moving around, getting closer to the door. He was another one who hated the smoking habit, although Bellamy had a feeling that it was more to do with the fact that when he had a cigarette between his lips, it just made Murphy stare at his mouth and want to put something entirely different between them.

"Fucking hell," Murphy growled as he came outside and slammed the door shut behind him. Bellamy turned his head to the side to watch as he fumbled with his keys and locked the door, and then blew a stream of smoke in his face. Murphy let out a few exaggerated coughs and Bellamy just rolled his eyes at him and took in another deep inhale. "That shit's gonna kill you," Murphy snatched the cigarette out of Bellamy's mouth and dropped it to the ground, stomping on it with his heavy boots.

"Didn't know you cared," Bellamy drawled, already pulling out another from his pack. Murphy's eyebrows pulled together and then he was smacking the pack from Bellamy's hand and leaning in to bring his lips together with Bellamy's. Bellamy had been expecting the kiss, especially with the way they had been sniping at each other all day, and so when it happened, his hands quickly found purchase, one of Murphy's hip and the other on his shoulder, and he jerked him around quickly so that he was pressed up against the wall, pressed up against it by Bellamy's bigger body. Murphy surprisingly didn't care about being boxed in with Bellamy up against him—he never did—and his hands came up to grab at Bellamy's shirt. He clenched the shirt in his fist, tugging Bellamy closer, and Bellamy got a strong whiff of the gasoline that was on the other mans hand mixed in with Murphy's cologne, and it was a scent that he absolutely loved.

"Shit," Murphy groaned as Bellamy's mouth moved away from Murphy's, grazing over his cheek and then jawline before lowering his head and biting at Murphy's neck, just underneath his ear, a spot that he _knew_ had Murphy hardening within an instant. "Come on...Come _on_ ," Murphy struggled to push Bellamy away, although it was a weak attempt. His knees literally shook when Bellamy sucked on Murphy's neck and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Sure, their personalities clashed on an almost daily basis.

They were both as stubborn as each other, and they both _liked_ getting a rise out of the other.

They were like cigarettes and gasoline—they sparked and caused flames when they were in the same room as one another.

But those flames burned hot and thorough, and the pair of them were addicted to each others touch.

"Clarke is at Lexa's tonight," Bellamy's voice was harsh as he rolled his hips forward, meeting Murphy's own and making the other man bite down on his lower lip to stop himself from letting out a groan.

"My place is closer," Murphy responded. His place was only two blocks closer, and it was nowhere near as nice as the place that Bellamy and Clarke had. But right now, he just wanted to get somewhere they could undress and get tangled up together.

"Deal," Bellamy agreed before lifting his head and pressing one last rough kiss against Murphy's mouth. "Let's go." Bellamy almost tripped over his feet as he turned around and began walking quickly toward his car. Murphy followed, shaking his head and grinning at how quickly the pair of them switched between anger and arousal.

But he wasn't complaining.

Bellamy was tearing out of the driveway half a minute later.

 **Let me know what you think x**


End file.
